Friday, May 10, 1991
Ravenclaw Tower, Hogwarts
Josh woke a few minutes before the alarm. He lay still beneath the blankets for a moment, staring into the darkness above his bed while the last remnants of sleep worked their way loose. The dormitory was quiet. Across the room, Arthur hadn't started moving yet, and nothing beyond the curtains suggested Ravenclaw Tower had properly awakened either.
Josh reached toward the bedside table, found the alarm clock, and turned it enough to catch the face in the dim light. 5:56 a.m. Close enough. He shut the alarm off before it had the opportunity to become Arthur's problem and sat up, rubbing both hands over his face.
Yesterday had been his first day back at Hogwarts in more than a week. He'd eaten breakfast with a wanted man disguised as a rat, handed said rat over to Professor Flitwick and the DMLE, gone back to class, attended HMS, discovered Penny had spent part of the previous night researching his family, found out she might be descended from Sir Percival, discussed his book over supper, and ended the evening helping Arthur with Arithmancy. Then he'd gone to bed.
That should have been the end of Thursday. Instead, somewhere between closing his eyes and Friday morning, Merlin had decided he needed Josh for something.
Josh pushed the blankets aside and planted his feet on the floor. His clothes for the run were easy enough to retrieve without turning on more light than he needed, and he started dressing while his mind wandered back to the part of last night that still didn't fit neatly anywhere. Bo and Kenzi had apparently discovered an entirely new way to misuse magic.
Josh had arrived at the end. Whatever had actually started the mess had already happened, and the courtyard had been full of people, magic, objects, and situations he had absolutely no context for. Merlin's eventual explanation had amounted to reminding him of videos about cartoon wizards yelling increasingly ridiculous spells at each other and then gesturing toward Bo and Kenzi. Josh had decided that explained enough.
He pulled on one sock, then the other. It probably said something unfortunate about the last nine days that Bo and Kenzi became involved in magical fight based on internet videos genuinely qualified as enough explanation. His sneakers came next.
Hunter had been there, which was still strange. Josh had only known the man through Chat for a handful of days, and Hunter had managed to establish two things about himself very quickly: he hated magic, and he was perfectly willing to complain about it whenever the opportunity presented itself. Then Josh had been dropped into that courtyard, watched one particularly irritated man disappear in the middle of trying to cast something, and learned afterward that he'd just met Hunter in person.
Of course the first person from Chat he met face-to-face had been the guy who hated magic.
Josh tightened the laces on his first sneaker and reached for the second. There had also been several Harry Potters, but that could remain exactly where it was until he had a reason to unpack it.
Gandalf was harder to dismiss. Not because Josh understood why the old wizard had been there. He didn't. Gandalf had simply been one of the people still standing around when Josh arrived, and later one of the people who had ended up in the Jump Station. Josh had seen enough with his own eyes to establish that much and nowhere near enough to explain the rest.
Still, the timing was funny. Yesterday morning, Penny had finally connected his surname to Merlin. Less than a day later, Josh had personally met another wizard he'd spent his first life believing was fictional. That didn't prove anything, but it did make Josh considerably less interested in casually throwing famous magical names around just to see what happened.
He stood, rolled his shoulders, and checked the clock again. 6:03 a.m. Good. Josh quietly gathered what else he needed and headed for the door.
The Ravenclaw common room beyond was mostly empty. Early morning light had only begun to reach the tower windows, leaving the room caught between night and dawn. A fire still burned low in the hearth, and abandoned books occupied several tables where students had apparently decided sleep was more important than whatever they had been studying. Josh crossed without disturbing any of it and stepped into the corridor.
Hogwarts was different before breakfast. Not silent, because the castle never seemed interested in being silent. A portrait somewhere around the next turn was snoring loudly enough to carry through the stone corridor, and one of the suits of armor farther down gave a metallic twitch as Josh passed. The staircases were already moving, though whether that counted as being awake was probably a philosophical question better left to Ravenclaws with less sense.
Josh took the route down that was currently available rather than arguing with the architecture. Three years at Hogwarts had taught him that much.
The castle gradually brightened around him as he descended. Tall windows turned from black to gray, then began admitting the first weak light of morning. Portraits stirred. One elderly wizard opened his eyes long enough to watch Josh pass before pulling his painted blanket over his head. Josh couldn't blame him.
He reached the ground floor, crossed the entrance hall, and pushed through the doors into the morning air. Cold immediately found the sweatpants and T-shirt he'd chosen for the run. Josh breathed in deeply.
Scotland.
The grounds spread away from the castle beneath a pale morning sky. The grass was wet with dew, the distant trees of the Forbidden Forest were still dark beneath the growing light, and mist rested over the Black Lake in uneven patches. Behind him, Hogwarts climbed upward in towers, battlements, windows, bridges, roofs, and additions accumulated across more than a thousand years of witches and wizards deciding the enormous magical castle apparently needed one more thing.
Josh started walking. He gave himself enough distance from the doors to loosen up properly, stretching his legs and shoulders before breaking into an easy jog. Running had never become a real habit in his first life. This time around, it had.
His sneakers found a comfortable rhythm against the ground as he moved away from the castle. He wasn't trying to set a record or turn the morning into another training session. He had HMS for that, along with everything else he'd accumulated over the years. This was just a run.
The first several minutes cleared the remaining sleep from his head. Cold air burned pleasantly in his lungs until his breathing settled, and Hogwarts slowly changed shape behind him as the angle shifted. From out here, there was no forgetting where he was. The castle dominated the landscape even when he wasn't looking directly at it, while the lake opened across one side of the grounds and the Forbidden Forest claimed the other. A pair of owls crossed overhead on their way toward the castle as Josh kept running.
Yesterday tried to follow him.
Peter Pettigrew came first, probably because handing a grown man over to law enforcement while he was still shaped like a rat was the sort of thing that tended to stick in a person's memory. Josh had expected finding Peter to matter. He had not expected to end Thursday morning sitting outside the Great Hall eating breakfast beside an unbreakable cage while Peter read about his own arrest warrant in the Daily Prophet.
Sirius was free, and that part still felt good. Josh let the thought sit for a few strides before his attention returned to the ground ahead of him. Harry was safe at the Manor. Sirius had his name back. Pettigrew was finally somebody else's problem. For the moment, that was enough.
His pace carried him farther along the open grounds while the sky brightened by degrees. Josh didn't bother trying to turn the last nine days into a neat sequence. May had started with a trip to London and the sudden return of an enormous amount of British media knowledge that he'd spent nearly three years unable to remember. Finding out that Harry Potter was real had been bad enough. Finding out just how much of what he remembered actually mattered had kept things moving ever since.
Harry, Sirius, Pettigrew, the book, Night City, Bo and Kenzi, Chat, a trial, more than one trip through London, and apparently Gandalf.
Josh huffed a laugh without breaking stride. May could calm the fuck down whenever it was ready.
He kept running.
....
Well, this is going to need a mental adjustment. Body augments kind of make this almost too easy? What ever. Not the time for that.
Josh let it go and kept running.
The morning did the rest.
He settled into the pace, let the castle and grounds roll past around him, and stopped trying to turn every thought into something that needed an answer. The sky continued to brighten overhead, the mist over the Black Lake thinning as the first real sunlight reached across it. Somewhere behind him, Hogwarts was waking up one window and one corridor at a time.
By the time he checked the time again, his watch read 6:28 a.m.
Good enough.
Josh slowed to a walk, let his breathing settle, and headed toward a broad rock overlooking the lake. It sat far enough from the castle to give him some quiet without putting him anywhere especially inconvenient, and the top was dry enough to sit on.
He climbed up, settled into place, and rested his hands loosely on his knees.
The sunrise was worth stopping for.
Gold light spread across the water in long broken bands, catching on the remaining patches of mist and turning them almost translucent. The far edge of the lake was still shadowed, but the grounds around him were beginning to pick up color again after the gray of early morning. Behind him, the highest parts of Hogwarts had already caught the sun.
Josh watched it for another minute before closing his eyes.
The run had cleared out the noise.
Meditation was for everything that remained.
He slowed his breathing and began working through his Occlumency exercises, letting the familiar structure settle into place one layer at a time. No urgency. No interruptions. No reason to hurry.
For the first time that morning, Josh simply sat still and let the world be quiet around him.
7:00 a.m.
Josh had taken the time to let his mind fully quiet after his morning run. Strong foundations were the key to proper strength, according to his great-grandfather. If Arcturus was right, and there wasn't any real reason to doubt him even if it did sound rather braggy, Percival was the strongest mage in Britain.
He just didn't give enough of a shit to do what Dumbledore did.
Percival said he had larger concerns, whatever that meant.
Josh opened his eyes.
And I am going off topic.
His mind had apparently decided that being quiet for half an hour was enough.
Josh climbed down from the rock and started back toward the castle. His thoughts went right back to wandering as he made his way toward Ravenclaw Tower, quite a bit faster than normal since he hadn't gotten the burn he'd become used to from his morning run.
By the time Josh made it back to Ravenclaw Tower, the common room had filled considerably. A few students were already dressed for the day, while others looked like they'd managed the complicated process of putting on robes without technically waking up. Books and parchment had begun migrating into bags, and conversation moved between breakfast, unfinished assignments, and whatever everyone had planned once classes were over.
Josh crossed the common room and returned to the dormitory. Arthur was awake now, though the fact that he was sitting on the edge of his bed staring at one of his shoes suggested the process remained incomplete.
Arthur looked up as Josh entered. "You've been out already?"
"Run and meditation," Josh answered as he grabbed what he needed for a shower.
Arthur looked toward the windows, then back at Josh. "It's morning."
"That's usually when I do those."
"Terrible system."
Josh smiled and headed off to shower.
The hot water felt particularly good after nearly an hour outside in the Scottish morning. Josh took his time without lingering, washed the sweat from the run away, and emerged feeling considerably more human than he had at 5:56.
Getting dressed for class took little thought after that. Shirt, pants, socks, shoes, robes, wand into its wrist holster, then everything he'd need for the morning gathered before he left the dormitory. Arthur had progressed considerably while Josh was gone and now looked like someone who might survive until breakfast.
Josh checked the time before they headed down.
7:39 a.m.
Perfect.
The castle had abandoned any pretense of quiet by then. Students moved through the corridors in groups, some already talking far too enthusiastically for the hour while others carried the unmistakable expression of people whose first meaningful interaction with the day would involve food. Josh and Arthur joined the flow heading downward.
The smell reached them before the Great Hall did.
Breakfast.
Josh's stomach immediately reminded him that running before eating had consequences.
"Now you're awake," Arthur said beside him.
Josh glanced over. "I was awake before."
Arthur shook his head. "No. That face right there? That's awake."
"The smell of good coffee, bacon, and eggs will do that to you," Josh replied, picking up the pace.
Arthur laughed and followed him into the Great Hall.
The Great Hall was already busy when they reached the Ravenclaw table. Josh claimed a seat with Arthur beside him and immediately started assembling breakfast. Luckily for Josh, the Hogwarts house-elves had adopted his preferred breakfast when he was there, and not just the American menu he'd introduced them to over the years. He served himself a cheese omelette from a platter, alongside a rasher of crispy bacon, a bear claw, and several freshly sliced pieces of sharp cheddar.
Gods above, cheese was one of the greatest things invented in this or any world.
As Josh served his food, a cup of freshly pulled espresso and a slice of lemon appeared beside his plate. He reached for a flagon and poured himself a glass of ice-cold grape-cranberry juice, then squeezed the lemon over his espresso and took a sip.
"See?" Josh said, setting the cup down. "Civilization."
Arthur was busy loading his own plate. "You have deeply concerning standards for civilization."
"My standards have coffee."
"Exactly."
Josh took a second sip and started on his omelette as the morning post began arriving overhead. Owls swept beneath the enchanted ceiling toward the House tables, carrying letters, packages, and rolled newspapers. One dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet farther down the Ravenclaw table while another descended toward Josh and Arthur.
Josh glanced up just in time to see the owl release his newspaper directly over his breakfast.
He caught it before it landed in his omelette.
"Absolutely not," Josh told the owl.
The owl landed on the table and stared at him.
"You aimed for my food."
The owl continued staring.
Josh moved the newspaper safely beside his plate and paid for it. The owl collected the coins, apparently satisfied with the outcome of their dispute, and launched itself back toward the rafters.
Arthur watched it leave. "Did you just argue with an owl?"
"It tried to land the news in my breakfast."
Arthur considered that. "Fair."
Josh took another bite of his omelette before unrolling the Prophet. Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew still occupied the front page, which wasn't particularly surprising after yesterday. He gave the latest coverage a quick scan before turning the page.
A familiar title caught his eye.
His fork stopped halfway to his mouth.
So You Got a Letter...
Josh lowered his fork and started reading.
The article itself was not hostile. If anything, that made Josh pay closer attention.
The headline sat above a short column by Hornaby Squint.
AN OLD NAME, A NEW AUDIENCE
So You Got a Letter...Raises Questions About Magical Britain's Introduction to the Magical World
Squint opened with the book rather than its author, describing it as a practical guide written for children and families receiving their first Hogwarts letter and new magical families without generations of magical relatives available to explain what came next. The article mentioned shopping, money, customs, school expectations, and the dozens of smaller pieces of information magical families tended to absorb simply by growing up around them.
Josh took another bite of omelette and kept reading.
Then Squint got to the part that had apparently made the book worth discussing in the Prophet.
Joshua Myrddin was thirteen years old, American-born, and a member of a family old enough that calling it an old magical family almost undersold the point. The Myrddins had maintained a continuous magical inheritance stretching back to before Britain existed in its modern form.
So why was someone from that background writing specifically for people entering magical society for the first time?
Josh's eyebrows rose slightly.
Okay. That's actually a fair question.
Apparently Algernon Longbottom had not been exaggerating when he'd said people were arguing about the book. He'd mentioned hearing enough of it over the last few days that he'd finally decided to buy a copy and see what Josh had actually written before joining in himself. He'd also made it pretty clear that at least some of those arguments had more to do with what people thought Josh meant than what was actually on the page.
Squint seemed to have noticed the same thing.
Rather than trying to settle the argument, the article widened it. If a third-year Hogwarts student could identify enough missing information to fill an entire book, how much knowledge did magical Britain simply assume new families already possessed? And if people were already fighting over the sections dealing with magical customs and traditions, how much of that knowledge had ever been clearly explained even to people born into the magical world?
That got Josh to stop eating for a second.
"Something wrong?" Arthur asked beside him.
"No," Josh replied, still reading. "I think somebody accidentally asked the right question."
Arthur leaned slightly toward the newspaper. "About your book?"
"About why the book needed to exist."
That earned more of Arthur's attention. Josh angled the paper between them so he could read without having to abandon his breakfast entirely.
The page-two piece ended before going much further. Beneath the final paragraph, a short line directed readers elsewhere in the issue.
More on page 8.
Josh looked at it, then at the remaining omelette on his plate.
The omelette won. Easily. He wrote the damned thing. People could make up their own minds for now. If things went too far, that's what the lawyers were for.
He folded the Prophet, set it aside, and went back to breakfast. The Great Hall had only gotten louder while he'd been reading, with more students arriving by the minute and the morning post adding its own layer of wings, conversation, and the occasional complaint from someone whose owl had been less considerate than his.
Penny joined them a few minutes later, dropping into an open seat nearby with a tired greeting before reaching for breakfast. Josh returned it around a bite of bear claw while Arthur shifted over enough to make room for the inevitable migration of plates and pitchers that came with another person joining them.
Penny's first destination was the coffee. Josh noticed because three years ago she'd been a tea drinker. Somewhere along the way, repeated exposure to him had apparently corrupted her standards.
She poured herself a cup, added cream, took a long drink, and only then began assembling breakfast.
Arthur watched her for a moment. "You know he did that to you."
"I know," Penny replied, reaching for the eggs. "I've decided to resent him for it later."
Josh smiled into his espresso. "You say that like coffee hasn't improved your life."
Penny gave him a look over the rim of her cup before returning to her breakfast.
She was halfway through her eggs before she spoke again.
"I hate your book."
Josh looked over. "You said it was good."
"It is good. That's why I hate it."
There was enough genuine irritation behind that answer that Josh stopped smiling.
Penny set her fork down. "Do you know what I wanted to do after Hogwarts?"
"The Ministry."
"Exactly. Not just work there. I wanted to matter there." She leaned back and folded her arms. "I thought if I worked hard enough, did well enough here, got the right NEWTs, and proved I was good at my job, eventually I'd reach a position where people had to listen to me."
Josh waited.
"Then I read your book."
There it was again.
Penny picked up her coffee, but this time she didn't drink it.
"Apparently I was being rather optimistic."
Arthur frowned. "Why?"
"Because being good at your job and having political influence aren't the same thing."
Arthur's attention sharpened as he reached for more bacon.
Penny looked at him. "I could spend twenty years being the most competent person in whatever Ministry department would have me and still have less actual political influence than some idiot whose primary accomplishment was being born to the right father."
"Yeah," Josh said quietly. "You could."
"And everyone knows this!"
A couple of Ravenclaws farther down the table glanced toward them. Penny noticed and lowered her voice, though not her temper.
"That's the part that really pisses me off. Nobody was hiding it. I just didn't know enough to understand what I was looking at."
She finally drank some of her coffee and sighing as the magic did its work.
"I kept reading last night. Do you know what one of the most reliable ways for a witch without the right family connections to acquire that sort of influence apparently is?"
Josh had a pretty good idea where this was going.
Penny's expression told him not to interrupt.
"Marry it."
Arthur stopped eating.
Penny gave a humorless little laugh. "Find some heir or young lord who likes pretty, clever girls. Marry him. Make sure he values my opinion. Spend the next several decades putting good ideas into his head so he can stand up and say them where they actually matter."
She stabbed a piece of egg hard enough that Josh was briefly concerned for the plate.
"And, of course, provide the family with the next generation while I'm at it."
Arthur had developed a sudden and profound interest in his breakfast.
Josh couldn't blame him.
Penny ate the thoroughly murdered piece of egg.
"I had a career plan yesterday morning. By last night I'd discovered that one of the traditional routes to the kind of influence I actually wanted apparently involves finding a little lordling, fucking his brains out until he starts repeating my opinions, and producing more little lordlings for him."
Josh nearly lost his espresso.
Arthur choked on something.
Penny calmly reached for her coffee.
"That," Josh managed, "is one way of putting it."
"It's the way I'm putting it."
Arthur might be right. I think I have been a bad influence on her.
Atta girl.
Penny took another drink of coffee, but apparently she wasn't finished. "And then there's Percy."
Josh paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, while Arthur looked up from his own breakfast. Penny caught both reactions and glared at them. "Don't."
"Didn't say anything," Josh replied.
"You were about to."
He really hadn't been, but arguing the point seemed unwise. Penny pushed what remained of her eggs around her plate before continuing. "He's been circling me for weeks, and until last night I thought it was flattering. He's intelligent, ambitious, serious about his future, and wants a Ministry career. I thought we had things in common."
"You do," Arthur said.
"That's what I'm worried about."
That shut him up. Penny leaned forward slightly, keeping her voice beneath the noise of the Great Hall. "Percy wants to climb the Ministry. So did I. What happens if we actually date, graduate, and end up competing for the same position? What happens the first time I'm better than him?"
Josh didn't answer immediately. He'd known Percy for years. Ambitious didn't begin to cover it.
Penny gave a short, humorless laugh. "Or maybe I'm giving him too much credit. Maybe there isn't some grand plan. Maybe he thinks I'm pretty, likes that I'm clever, and wants to get his dick wet."
Arthur nearly dropped his fork, and Josh slowly set down his espresso. Penny ignored both of them.
"Then afterward he can find some nice pure-blood girl with the right family name when he's ready to be serious. Or maybe he'd keep me around until I became inconvenient. Either way, I'm suddenly having a very difficult time believing Percy Weasley has spent the last few weeks discovering a deep appreciation for my personality."
That was considerably less funny.
Josh thought back over Percy's behavior around her. The excuses to stop and talk. The attention. The way he'd started inserting himself whenever Penny was nearby. Josh had noticed it, but he'd filed it under a teenage boy being interested in a pretty girl and moved on.
Penny had apparently reopened the file.
"The really irritating part is that yesterday I might have said yes if he'd asked me out."
"Really?" Arthur asked.
"Yes, Arthur. That is why I'm angry."
"Oh."
Penny stabbed another piece of egg. "I thought he was attractive. I thought he was going somewhere. I thought he respected that I was going somewhere too." She ate the egg and reached for her coffee again. "Now I'm wondering whether the last part was ever actually part of the attraction."
Josh grimaced. That one he couldn't dismiss.
Penny was pretty. She was also smarter than Percy, as far as Josh was concerned, and she wasn't inclined to make herself smaller so somebody else could feel taller. If Percy wanted a trophy who could impress people when required and politely stay behind him the rest of the time, he'd picked the wrong fucking Ravenclaw.
Penny took another drink and stared into her cup. "I think I liked him better yesterday."
Josh picked up his espresso again. "Yesterday you knew less."
Penny looked at him for a second before raising her coffee. "There's a depressing thought."
Their cups clicked together.
.........
Potions Class Room
The examination dates were the first thing Josh noticed when he and Arthur reached the Potions classroom. Someone had written them in the upper corner of the blackboard, small enough not to interfere with the lesson but large enough that every student entering the dungeon saw them.
Arthur slowed as they approached their usual table and glanced at the dates. "That's getting close."
"Yep," Josh said, setting his bag down and taking his seat. Around them, the room continued filling as students pulled out books, parchment, and equipment. The examination dates were drawing plenty of attention until the dungeon door slammed shut and conversation rapidly died.
Snape swept past the last row of tables without acknowledging anyone and reached the front of the classroom. He looked like he'd slept about as well as Penny had, except Penny hadn't spent breakfast looking like she wanted an excuse to poison somebody.
Josh had a pretty good idea why.
Snape turned and slashed two words across the board beneath the examination dates.
Girding Potion
"Page two hundred and seventeen. You have ninety minutes."
That was apparently all the instruction they were getting.
Josh opened his book with everyone else and had barely reached the ingredient list when Snape's voice cut across the room. "Mr. Myrddin. So good of you to rejoin us."
Josh looked up from the page. "Professor."
"You've missed four lessons," Snape said, his lip curling slightly. "I trust your many important affairs have left sufficient room in your schedule to remain capable of passing my class."
"I'll manage," Josh replied.
"I'm sure you will." Snape's tone made it clear he meant nothing of the sort. His gaze remained on Josh for another moment before he addressed the rest of the room. "Anyone incapable of producing an acceptable Girding Potion by the end of the lesson should consider the examination dates behind me a warning rather than information."
Several students immediately bent lower over their books. Josh returned to his own, only for Snape to add, "Five points from Ravenclaw, Mr. Myrddin."
Josh's head came back up. "On what grounds?"
The room went very quiet.
Snape's expression hardened. "Ten points."
"No, Professor." Josh closed his book and met his eyes. "If I've broken a rule, tell me which one and take the points. If I haven't, then you're punishing Ravenclaw because you're angry with me."
Arthur had gone completely still beside him. Nobody else seemed particularly interested in breathing.
Snape stared at Josh across the dungeon. "You would do well to remember who is teaching this class."
"I know exactly who is teaching it," Josh said. "That's why I'm asking what I did."
For several seconds, neither of them moved.
Snape's voice dropped. "Detention."
"For asking why you took House points?"
"For your continued insolence."
Josh considered that, then gave a single nod. "All right. I'll speak with Professor Flitwick after class."
Something ugly flashed across Snape's face. "Is that a threat, Mr. Myrddin?"
"No, Professor. It's an appeal." Josh kept his voice level. "You took points without giving a reason, doubled them when I asked for one, then assigned detention when I challenged that. Professor Flitwick is my Head of House. I'm taking it to him."
Snape's face tightened. "You will serve the detention."
"No, Professor, I won't. Not unless you can tell me what I did to earn it."
The silence in the dungeon became absolute. Arthur had stopped pretending to read beside him, and Josh could feel half the class watching without anyone being stupid enough to turn their head. Snape stepped closer to the table. "You seem to be under the impression that punishment in this classroom is subject to negotiation."
"No. I'm saying punishment requires me to have actually done something." Josh gestured toward the board. "I came to class on time. I opened the assigned page. You brought up my absence, I answered you, and then you took points. When I asked why, you took more and gave me detention. So what rule did I break?"
Snape stared at him, and Josh stared back. He wasn't going to shout. He wasn't going to insult the man. He wasn't going to hand Snape an actual reason to punish him just because Snape wanted one.
After several seconds, Snape's lip curled. "Perhaps Professor Flitwick can explain the concept of respecting one's professors in terms simple enough for you to understand."
"Maybe," Josh said. "I'll ask him."
Arthur made a tiny choking noise beside him and immediately disguised it as a cough. Snape's eyes flicked toward Arthur before returning to Josh. "See that you do."
"I will," Josh replied.
Neither of them looked away for another second before Snape turned sharply and swept back toward the front of the dungeon. "Page two hundred and seventeen. Anyone who has not begun brewing within the next five minutes will discover a legitimate reason to lose House points."
That got everyone moving. Josh looked down at his book again and picked up his quill to mark the ingredients he and Arthur needed.
Arthur waited several seconds before quietly asking, "Are you actually going to Flitwick? Right after class?"
"Yep," Josh said.
Arthur nodded and started gathering their equipment. "Thought so."
Josh turned back to the textbook while Arthur went for the ingredients. The Girding Potion was new to the class, though Josh recognized everything that went into it. Fairy wings, doxy eggs, dragonfly thoraxes, and flying seahorses made for an odd collection even by Potions standards.
The effect caught his attention more than the ingredient list. Prolonged endurance for several weeks, with a maximum safe dosage of two vials.
Great. A wizard's magical Viagra, pre-workout, and replacement batteries all in one.
Josh read through the recipe once, then shifted the book between their places as Arthur returned with the ingredients. They divided the preparation without discussion. Arthur set up the cauldron and measured the doxy eggs while Josh laid out the fairy wings and began preparing the dragonfly thoraxes for toasting.
Around them, the dungeon settled into the sounds of a practical lesson. Burners hissed to life, knives and tools clicked against worktables, and glass clinked against brass scales as students measured ingredients. Snape moved between the rows, offering nothing that hadn't already been printed on page two hundred and seventeen.
Josh added the fairy wings and brought the cauldron up to heat, watching the potion rather than the clock. The change came gradually, turquoise spreading through the liquid until the color matched the example in the textbook. Arthur added the first measure of doxy eggs, and pink rolled through the cauldron almost immediately.
Josh lowered the heat and turned his attention to the dragonfly thoraxes. Those needed to be toasted before they went anywhere near the potion, and burning them would mean starting that portion of the preparation over. He kept them moving over the flame until they were evenly done, then began adding them according to the recipe. The potion steadily shifted from pink toward orange.
At the next table, the smell of scorched ingredients cut through the dungeon. Snape was there almost immediately.
"If the instructions called for charcoal, Mr. Beaumont, they would say so," Snape said, looking down at the blackened dragonfly thoraxes. "Start again."
"Yes, Professor," Beaumont replied.
Snape swept away while Josh checked his own cauldron and added the last of the toasted thoraxes needed for that stage. By the time the potion settled into orange, Arthur already had the flying seahorse ready.
The seahorse disappeared beneath the surface, and they brought the heat back up. Orange gradually faded until the potion returned to turquoise. Josh added more of the toasted thoraxes, stopping once the mixture reached the required purple, then increased the heat again.
This transition took longer. Josh used the time to prepare the remaining thoraxes while Arthur measured out the three portions of doxy eggs they would need next. By the time the first traces of red appeared in the cauldron, everything for the next two stages was already laid out within reach.
Snape passed their table while they waited. His eyes moved over the cauldron, the prepared ingredients, and the open textbook before he continued down the row without saying anything.
The potion reached a uniform red. Arthur added the three measures of doxy eggs, and Josh followed with the toasted thoraxes a little at a time. The color changed steadily beneath them until the last traces of red disappeared and the potion settled into blue.
Three flying seahorses remained.
Josh added them before bringing the cauldron back up to heat for the final stage. The smell that had been unpleasant since the first ingredients went in grew considerably worse as the potion warmed, spreading through the dungeon as more cauldrons reached the same point.
A few tables away, someone started coughing.
Josh breathed through his mouth and kept watching the cauldron.
Blue gave way slowly at first, green appearing around the edges before spreading toward the center. He reduced the heat as the last streaks of blue disappeared, leaving the potion uniformly green.
Arthur checked the textbook while Josh studied the surface of the finished potion. The color matched, the consistency matched, and nothing about it suggested they had missed a stage.
They were done.
Fuck this stinks... Gonna have to ask Tiff if there is a way to fix that this summer. It would be great to have a ready supply on hand if I can get rid of the stench, and make sure it doesn't taste as bad as it smells.
You just called it wizard's Viagra. Got some big plans with teacher Tiff?
1. No.
2. Fuck you
3. The grind is eternal.
Arthur filled two vials with their potion for Snape while Josh cleaned their work area and stored the remainder in his own vials. Now that he remembered what Snape had done to Harry's potions in the books, Josh intended to keep a backup whenever possible.
Git.
Sure, that technically hadn't happened yet, but after Josh had just refused to kowtow to the man's bullshit, he wasn't going to assume Snape wouldn't pull something similar.
Snape glanced toward their table as Arthur placed the two vials on his desk and Josh stored the remainder, then resumed his walk around the room.
Flitwick's Office, Hogwarts
Filius Flitwick's Perspective
Filius Flitwick had received many letters from Gringotts over the course of his life. Most concerned accounts, contracts, inheritance matters, or one of the other innumerable subjects for which goblins considered themselves considerably more competent than wizards.
Very few advised him to tell people to get their affairs in order.
He adjusted his spectacles and read the letter again.
The parchment had arrived that morning bearing the seals of Gringotts and addressed to him specifically in his capacity as Joshua's Head of House and one of his professors. The first portion was straightforward enough. Gringotts formally confirmed Joshua's raising from Heir to Lord as Lord Peverell, Lord Evans, and Lord Sayre, as well as maintaining his position as Heir Myrddin.
None of that was truly surprising to Filius.
The confirmation of Joshua's magical adulthood was another matter.
Whatever questions wizarding law might ordinarily have raised about a thirteen-year-old holding three Lordships, Mother Magic had apparently settled them herself. Gringotts recognized Joshua as a magical adult, and on July fifth, his fourteenth birthday, the remaining restrictions upon his three Lordships would expire.
From that day forward, Lord Peverell, Lord Evans, and Lord Sayre would possess full control of all three Houses.
Filius continued reading.
The goblins were apparently rather pleased by this development.
They were considerably less optimistic about anyone foolish enough to be Joshua's enemy.
In light of Lord Peverell's confirmed recognition as a magical adult and his approaching assumption of unrestricted authority over the Houses of Peverell, Evans, and Sayre, Gringotts sees no cause for concern regarding our client's ability to protect his own interests.
Filius's eyebrows rose.
That was certainly one way of phrasing it.
The next paragraph was less subtle.
Should you possess personal regard for any individual who presently considers Lord Peverell an enemy, Gringotts recommends that you counsel them to reconsider their position before the fifth of July.
Filius read the following sentence twice.
Should they decline such counsel, we recommend that they place their affairs in order.
Filius slowly lowered the parchment to his desk.
There was something uniquely goblin about receiving a letter which stopped just short of saying, We fear for the other fellow.
The uncomfortable part was that Filius understood why they had sent it.
Only yesterday, Joshua had discreetly handed Peter Pettigrew over to waiting Aurors in Filius's presence. There had been no grand confrontation, no attempt to turn the capture into a spectacle, and certainly no effort to take justice into his own hands. Joshua had found one of the most wanted men in magical Britain, secured him, and transferred him to the proper authorities.
That did not make Filius afraid of Joshua.
If anything, it was reassuring.
It did, however, make the goblins' warning considerably more difficult to dismiss.
Joshua had demonstrated what he did when an enemy could be handed over to the law.
Gringotts was politely advising Filius not to become personally invested in discovering what Joshua might do when the law recognized that he was entitled to handle the problem himself.
A knock sounded at the office door.
Filius looked toward it, then glanced at the clock.
"Come in."
The door opened, revealing the very student whose enemies Gringotts had just advised Filius to warn.
"Professor, do you have a minute?"
Filius looked down at the letter one last time before setting it aside.
"Of course, Joshua. Come in."
Josh stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
"I need to talk to you about Professor Snape."
Filius stared at him for half a second.
Then his eyes drifted toward the Gringotts letter.
Wonderful.
Filius gestured toward the chair opposite his desk. "Sit down and tell me what happened."
Joshua did.
Filius listened without interrupting as he described the beginning of the lesson, Severus's remarks concerning the four classes he had missed, and the five points that had followed without explanation. Joshua had asked for the grounds. Severus had made it ten. When Joshua challenged the punishment, Severus reminded him who was teaching the class and assigned him detention for continued insolence.
"And you told him you would speak with me?" Filius asked.
"I told him I'd appeal it to you."
Filius nodded. "What did Professor Snape say?"
"He asked if I was threatening him."
Filius's expression tightened.
"I told him it wasn't a threat. It was an appeal. He told me I would serve the detention, and I told him I wouldn't unless he could tell me what I'd done to earn it."
"Did he?"
"No."
"Did you raise your voice, insult him, threaten him, or refuse an instruction concerning the lesson?"
"No, Professor. Arthur and I brewed the potion."
Of course they had.
Filius asked several more questions, establishing who had been close enough to hear the exchange and whether anything of significance had happened before Severus addressed Joshua. Arthur McTavish had been sitting beside him, and from Joshua's description there would be no shortage of other witnesses. The dungeon had apparently become quiet enough that half the class could have transcribed the argument.
That would make verifying the account simple.
"Your detention is suspended," Filius said at last. "Do not report for it unless I tell you otherwise. I will speak with Mr. McTavish and several of your classmates before I speak with Professor Snape. I will address the points as part of the same review."
"Thank you, Professor."
Filius studied him for a moment. Joshua wasn't smiling. There was no satisfaction at having dragged Severus before someone higher in the school's hierarchy, nor any demand that Filius punish him. He had encountered a misuse of authority, followed the rules for challenging it, and brought the matter to the person whose responsibility it was to resolve it.
Precisely as he should have.
Unfortunately, Severus had behaved like a bloody fool.
Even without the letter from Gringotts, he should have known better. Joshua might be thirteen and still attending Hogwarts, but he was also Heir Myrddin. Severus knew enough of wizarding society to understand what that meant. Being a professor gave him considerable authority over a student in his classroom, but it did not transform every irritation into an offense or every challenge to his judgment into insubordination. There were rules governing both sides of that relationship, and Joshua had just demonstrated that he knew them perfectly well.
Filius's gaze drifted toward the letter on his desk.
Severus knew significantly less about Joshua Myrddin, and the Myrddin family than he thought he did.
Filius had known Percival for years. The Irish Lord could be remarkably irreverent when the mood took him, but no one familiar with the man mistook that for softness. Minerva certainly didn't. She and Filius had spoken about the Myrddins many times over the years, particularly after Josh became a student at Hogwarts. Percival's wife had been one of Minerva's teachers during the work leading to her Transfiguration Mastery, and some of what Minerva knew about the family's approach to education had forced Filius to reconsider several assumptions about Joshua's upbringing. The boy had been raised as a Muggle and had only been part of the magical world for a few months before coming to Hogwarts. The Myrddins, however, had taken the lessons of Grindelwald's war seriously enough that even members of their household staff were expected to receive combat-focused training. Their children were hardly given less.
Then Joshua had arrived at Hogwarts and spent nearly three years proving what that sort of education could produce.
Filius had taught exceptional students before. He had taught Lily Evans. He remembered the pleasure of encountering a mind that absorbed a lesson and immediately began reaching beyond it, just as he remembered Minerva's barely concealed satisfaction whenever James Potter did something sufficiently brilliant to outweigh whatever trouble had accompanied it. He had not seriously considered allowing another student to sit his OWLs early in decades, yet if Percival agreed, Filius believed Joshua could manage it.
He wanted considerably more than that for him.
The thought of taking Joshua as his Disciple had been growing for some time. Minerva had never said outright that she was considering something similar, but Filius knew her well enough to recognize the signs. Neither of them had reached that point because Joshua possessed an impressive family name.
The boy was simply that good.
Filius had seen it outside the classroom as well. He had watched Joshua spar with his friends often enough to recognize how carefully he controlled himself. He adjusted to the person opposite him, remained within the agreed rules, and left them room to learn. Winning was never the point when the purpose of the exercise was for everyone involved to become better.
His restraint became rather more creative when someone mistreated one of his Housemates.
Several incidents that had initially appeared to be unusually elaborate pranks had become much easier to understand once Filius noticed the common denominator. Joshua had remarkably little patience for people who used strength, popularity, blood, or position to make someone else's life miserable. Who someone's parents were seemed largely irrelevant to him. So did whether an old family name followed theirs.
Bullies, however, Joshua noticed.
Filius looked at the Gringotts letter again.
Severus was an extraordinary potioneer. Filius would never pretend otherwise, no matter how often he wished the man possessed even half as much talent for teaching children as he did for brewing. That deficiency could be endured and, ideally, corrected.
His habit of bullying students was becoming considerably more difficult to overlook.
Especially this student.
The information Severus already possessed had brought him uncomfortably close to consequences that would not end with a discussion between Heads of House. What lay on Filius's desk made the situation considerably worse.
Lord Peverell. Lord Evans. Lord Sayre.
Magically recognized as an adult.
The thought that followed was unpleasant enough that Filius almost dismissed it.
Almost.
There were older means of settling serious disputes between adults of standing. They were far less common than they had once been, but wizarding society had never discarded all of them merely because the twentieth century found them inconvenient. Honor remained a very real concept among the old Houses, and under the wrong circumstances an insult that could be corrected with an apology could become something much more dangerous when the offending party refused to acknowledge it.
Filius's eyes returned to Joshua.
He had never seen the boy fight without rules intended to keep everyone safe.
He had no desire to.
Severus was a dangerous wizard and an experienced duelist. Filius respected that even when he found the man personally infuriating. But Percival Myrddin had not taught his Heir according to Hogwarts dueling-club standards, and everything Filius had learned over the last three years suggested Joshua's education in that area went considerably beyond anything Hogwarts expected of a third-year.
For the first time, Filius considered what might happen if Severus's temper carried him far enough that Joshua stopped answering him as a student and answered him according to the customs of the society Severus so often claimed to understand.
His eyes fell upon the final lines of the Gringotts letter.
Should they decline such counsel, we recommend that they place their affairs in order.
Filius slowly exhaled through his nose.
Bloody fool.
Filius pulled his attention away from the letter and returned it to Joshua.
The boy had waited patiently while he thought, apparently content to let his Head of House decide what needed to happen next. That, more than anything, helped settle Filius's course.
Joshua had brought him a school disciplinary matter.
Filius intended to keep it one.
"I'll handle this," he said.
Joshua nodded. "All right."
"Once I've spoken with Mr. McTavish and the others who witnessed the exchange, I'll deal with Professor Snape."
"Thank you, Professor."
Filius glanced toward the clock. Joshua still had another class to reach, and keeping him here served little purpose. The questions Filius needed answered now belonged to other people.
"You're due in Transfiguration."
Joshua looked toward the clock himself before standing. "Yeah. Professor McGonagall probably won't accept 'Professor Flitwick was contemplating murder' as an excuse."
Filius blinked.
Joshua's mouth twitched.
"You're very expressive when you're thinking, Professor."
"I was not contemplating murder."
"Good to know."
"I was contemplating paperwork."
Joshua paused with one hand on his bag.
"That's worse."
Despite himself, Filius smiled.
"Go to class, Joshua."
"Yes, Professor."
Joshua headed for the door, but Filius stopped him before he reached it.
"Joshua."
He turned.
"You handled yourself correctly this morning."
The humor disappeared from his expression.
Filius held his gaze. "You asked for an explanation. You invoked your right to appeal. You continued with the lesson rather than allowing the disagreement to disrupt it further. Whatever comes of my discussion with Professor Snape, I don't want you wondering whether bringing this to me was the correct decision."
Joshua was quiet for a moment before nodding.
"Understood."
"Good. Now go before Minerva decides this somehow constitutes my fault."
That got the faint smile back.
Josh opened the door. "Wouldn't dream of throwing you under the bus, Professor."
Filius wasn't entirely certain what sort of bus Joshua meant to throw him beneath.
He decided he didn't want to know.
The door closed.
Filius sat quietly for another few seconds before his eyes moved toward the bookshelf.
His copy of So You Got a Letter... sat exactly where he'd left it.
He looked at the book.
Then at the Gringotts letter.
Then back at the book.
Perhaps Severus would benefit from some assigned reading.
........................
Flitwick's Office, Hogwarts
Filius Flitwick's Perspective
By the time Severus Snape arrived at his office, Filius had spoken with Arthur McTavish and four other students who had been present in the dungeon. Their accounts differed slightly in wording, but not in substance. Severus had addressed Joshua concerning the lessons he had missed, taken five points from Ravenclaw without identifying an offense, doubled the penalty when Joshua asked for an explanation, and assigned detention when Joshua challenged him. Joshua had then invoked his right to appeal to his Head of House.
No one Filius interviewed remembered Joshua raising his voice, insulting Severus, threatening him, or refusing an instruction. Mr. McTavish had confirmed that they had simply returned to their work afterward, completed the assigned Girding Potion, submitted their samples, cleaned their station, and left when dismissed.
That had settled the matter as far as Filius was concerned.
It had also done absolutely nothing to improve his opinion of Severus's behavior.
Filius had spent what time remained before their meeting with his copy of So You Got a Letter... open across his desk. Several pieces of parchment now marked sections he thought Severus would benefit from reading. Another sheet contained Filius's own notes and cross-references, written while the testimony from the students was still fresh in his mind.
The Gringotts letter rested beside it.
A knock sounded against the door.
"Come in."
Severus entered and closed the door behind him. His gaze passed over Filius, the book on his desk, and the parchment beside it before returning to him. "You wished to speak with me?"
"Yes. Sit down, Severus."
Severus took the chair opposite him. "I assume this concerns Myrddin."
"It concerns your conduct toward Joshua Myrddin during Potions this morning."
A flicker of irritation crossed Severus's face. "If the boy has complained about his detention, he was openly insubordinate in my classroom."
Filius regarded him for several seconds.
"I have spoken with five witnesses."
Severus's expression remained sour. "Then I assume you've heard five variations of Myrddin's account."
Filius felt his temper move.
Not enough to show itself in his voice.
Yet.
"I heard five students independently describe substantially the same sequence of events. You took five points from Ravenclaw without identifying an offense. When Joshua asked why, you increased the penalty to ten. When he challenged that decision, you assigned detention for insolence. Is any part of that inaccurate?"
"He challenged my authority in front of the class."
"That was not my question."
Severus's mouth tightened.
Filius waited.
"No."
"Good. Did Joshua raise his voice?"
"No."
"Did he insult you?"
"Not directly."
Filius's eyes narrowed. "Did he insult you, Severus?"
A pause.
"No."
"Did he threaten you?"
"He invoked your name in front of the class."
"He told you he intended to appeal your decision to his Head of House."
"The implication was obvious."
Something inside Filius went cold.
"No," he said. "The procedure was obvious."
Severus stared at him.
Filius leaned forward slightly. "You accused a student of threatening you because he informed you that he intended to exercise a right provided to him under the rules of this school. You then attempted to compel him to accept a punishment for an offense you repeatedly refused to identify."
"He was insolent."
"Then tell me what he did."
Severus's expression hardened. "I have already explained that he challenged my authority."
"And I am telling you that challenging a disciplinary decision is not, by itself, an offense."
"I do not need another professor instructing me on how to control my classroom."
Filius went completely still.
There it was.
For several seconds he simply looked at Severus.
Then he removed his spectacles, folded them carefully, and placed them on the desk.
"Do you hear yourself?"
Severus's expression shifted.
"You spent this morning punishing Joshua because, according to you, he failed to show appropriate respect for your authority as his professor. You are now sitting in my office, after I summoned you to answer for that punishment, objecting to my authority to review your conduct."
"That is not the same thing."
"No?"
Filius's voice remained quiet, but whatever Severus saw in his face finally made him stop trying to interrupt.
"I am your colleague, Severus. I am also senior to you in this school, and I am Joshua's Head of House. He appealed a disciplinary action taken against him, which places that matter squarely within my authority. I asked you direct questions concerning your conduct toward one of my students, and instead of answering them, you have repeatedly attempted to dismiss the student, dismiss the witnesses, and now dismiss me."
Severus opened his mouth.
"Don't."
The word cracked through the office.
Filius rarely raised his voice. He had discovered many years ago that he seldom needed to.
He didn't need to now.
Severus closed his mouth.
"I have spent years watching you make children miserable because you dislike them, their parents, their Houses, their abilities, or whatever other justification happens to be convenient that morning. I have watched you humiliate students who were already struggling and call it instruction. I have watched you favor your own House so blatantly that children barely into adolescence understand exactly which rules will and will not apply depending upon the color of the robes at the table."
Filius's hands rested flat against his desk.
He was angry now.
Not the hot, careless anger Severus had displayed in the dungeon. Filius had spent too many years dueling to mistake losing control for strength. His anger sharpened him instead.
"I dislike bullies, Severus."
The irritation had disappeared from Severus's face.
"I dislike them when they are students. I dislike them when they are politicians. I dislike them when they have old names, large vaults, important friends, or enough power to convince themselves that no one is permitted to object when they behave badly."
Filius held his gaze.
"And I particularly dislike them when they are teachers."
Silence filled the office.
Severus's face had gone rigid.
Filius let the silence remain until he was certain the man was listening.
"You are an extraordinary potioneer. You are an accomplished wizard. You possess knowledge in your field that very few people in Britain can match, and somehow you have spent years demonstrating that none of those qualities automatically make you a good teacher."
Severus flinched.
Barely.
Filius saw it anyway.
"You bullied one of my students this morning because you were angry. When he refused to be bullied quietly, you attempted to turn his refusal into the offense you had lacked in the first place. He did not shout at you. He did not insult you. He did not threaten you. He followed the rules."
Filius reached beside him and picked up the book.
"And you, apparently, need to read them."
He tossed it across the desk.
Severus caught it against his chest and looked down.
So You Got a Letter...
Several parchment markers protruded from its pages.
His eyes lifted slowly.
"What is this?"
"Assigned reading."
"Filius..."
"No."
Severus stopped.
Filius pointed toward the book in his hands.
"The first markings concern the rights and obligations of Hogwarts students and staff, including disciplinary authority and appeals. Since Joshua understood those rules well enough to follow them while you were attempting to provoke him, I expect you to manage the same."
Severus's face darkened, but this time he kept his mouth shut.
"The remaining markings concern magical society. Houses. Lords. Heirs. The distinctions between Ancient, Noble, and the various classifications created by their combinations. There are also several passages concerning the legal standing of magical adults, the obligations attached to social rank, and the difference between actual tradition and people using the word tradition to excuse behavior that has nothing whatsoever to do with it."
Severus glanced down at the book again.
Filius watched him.
"You are being a bloody fool, Severus."
This time there was no irritation in the other man's expression.
Only attention.
Good.
Filius reached for the Gringotts letter.
"Because the truly astonishing part is that everything I have said so far concerns information you already possessed when you walked into that classroom this morning."
Severus's eyes shifted toward the parchment.
Filius picked it up.
"You knew Joshua was Heir Myrddin. You knew the standing that afforded him. You knew he was not threatening you by appealing to me, regardless of whether your temper allowed you to admit it at the time. And even knowing all of that, you came dangerously close to turning a school disciplinary dispute into a legal matter because you could not tolerate a thirteen-year-old asking you to justify yourself."
Filius extended the letter across the desk.
Severus looked at it but did not immediately reach for it.
"What's that?"
"The part you didn't know."
After a moment, Severus took it.
Filius sat back and watched him break the seal.
He had already said everything necessary.
For the moment.
Severus's eyes moved across the first paragraph. Filius watched the irritation that still lingered in his expression disappear. It wasn't dramatic. Severus simply stopped looking angry. His eyes returned to the beginning of the paragraph, and then he read it again.
"Lord Peverell," Severus said quietly. His eyes moved farther down. "Lord Evans. Lord Sayre." He looked up from the parchment. "Three."
"Yes."
"And Heir Myrddin."
"Yes."
Severus returned to the letter. Filius watched his eyes move through the next paragraph before stopping. They remained still long enough that Filius knew exactly which sentence he had reached, and then moved backward as Severus read it again.
"Magical adulthood."
"Confirmed by Gringotts."
"He's thirteen."
"I am aware."
Severus's eyes snapped toward him, but Filius met them without expression. For perhaps the first time since entering the office, Severus appeared to have nothing immediately available to say. After a moment, he returned to the letter.
The next several paragraphs took longer. Filius watched Severus reach the explanation of what would change on the fifth of July. The three Lordships were already Joshua's. What remained were restrictions imposed by his age, and those restrictions now had an expiration date less than two months away.
Then Severus reached the goblins' opinion of anyone foolish enough to make an enemy of their client.
His mouth compressed into a thin line.
Filius knew when he reached the final sentence because Severus stopped reading altogether. For several seconds the office remained silent before he finally looked up.
"They actually wrote this?"
Filius almost laughed. Instead, he held out one hand toward the parchment. "You are holding the letter."
Severus looked down at it again, his attention returning to the final recommendation that anyone unwilling to reconsider their position should place their affairs in order. His fingers tightened slightly against the parchment.
"The goblins are threatening me?"
"No. They don't know what happened this morning. That letter arrived before Joshua ever entered your classroom."
That landed considerably harder.
Severus's eyes returned to the parchment, and Filius watched the distinction settle into place. Gringotts had not written the warning because of anything Severus had done. They had written it because, in their estimation, the warning was appropriate for anyone who already considered Joshua an enemy.
"They are warning me," Severus said.
"They are warning anyone who might possess sufficient personal regard for one of Joshua's enemies to attempt to save them from their own stupidity."
Severus went quiet again.
There was no satisfaction in watching the implications settle into place. Severus had been a bloody fool, but Filius had no desire to frighten him merely for the pleasure of it. He wanted the man to understand what he had done before his temper put him in a situation neither of them could resolve inside Hogwarts.
Eventually Severus looked toward the book still resting in his other hand. His expression changed slightly as his attention moved over the parchment markers protruding from its pages.
Filius suspected he had finally begun connecting the marked sections to the letter.
"Everything I said before giving you that parchment still stands," Filius said. "You were already in the wrong based upon what you knew this morning. Joshua's status does not make your treatment of another student acceptable. It makes your decision to behave that way toward him considerably more dangerous."
Severus's jaw tightened, but this time he didn't argue.
"You accused him of threatening you when he appealed to me. He wasn't. You treated his refusal to accept an arbitrary punishment as a challenge to your authority. It wasn't. And you continued pushing after he gave you several opportunities to identify an actual offense and end the matter."
Severus glanced down at the letter again. "What would have happened?"
Filius knew exactly what he meant, and he knew better than to soften the answer. "That would depend upon how much further you pushed."
He allowed that to sit between them before continuing.
"Joshua came to me as a student. I have treated his complaint accordingly. He asked Hogwarts to correct the conduct of one of its professors, and Hogwarts will." Filius's gaze settled briefly upon the Gringotts seal before returning to Severus. "But according to the parchment in your hand, Joshua is not merely a student."
Severus went very still.
Filius didn't need to explain the old customs again. He had already marked the relevant pages.
"You should read the book."
Severus looked down at the marked copy in his hand before returning his attention to Filius. "What happens now?"
"The ten points are restored and the detention is rescinded," Filius said. "My review will reflect that the disciplinary action was unsupported by the testimony of the students present. You will not retaliate against Joshua for appealing it."
Severus's expression tightened. "I would not retaliate against a student for making a complaint."
Filius stared at him until Severus's expression soured. "Consider why I felt it necessary to say it."
Severus offered no answer.
Filius reached for the Gringotts letter when Severus began to set it beside the book. "That stays here. The information it contains is not public."
Severus released the parchment. "I am aware of what confidential means, Filius."
"Good," Filius replied. "Then we won't have another problem."
Severus stood with the book beneath one arm. The anger he'd carried into the office had largely disappeared, although Filius doubted anything resembling gratitude would replace it before the end of the century.
Filius watched him reach the door before speaking again. "One more thing, Severus. You owe Joshua an apology."
Severus stopped with his hand on the door. His expression immediately closed.
"I'm not ordering you to give one," Filius continued. "An apology made because I forced it out of you would be worthless. What you do with the knowledge that you owe him one is your decision."
Severus remained silent for several seconds before glancing down at the book beneath his arm. "I'll read it."
"See that you do," Filius said.
Severus opened the door and left without another word.
Filius waited until it closed before leaning back in his chair. His eyes settled on the Gringotts letter still lying across his desk.
Severus had the book.
Hopefully, he was still capable of learning from one.